RoboNarcs Have Landed

Yesterday I had the chance to see the Mayor and Chief of Police welcome in their new tool against crime and civil unrest. Below is a transcript of what the tool was saying.

"Stay calm, do not worry, my voice is not meant to scare or alarm you. I am the olive drab green metal pole that these police and suited men are standing around. The City of Charlotte has bought more than a few of me and my twin brethren to do some serious policing around this fine Ville. HEY, YOU STOP CHEWING GUM AND GET THAT STUPID LOOK OFF OF YOUR FACE!! We are operated remotely from where ever the cops choose to manipulate our intricate actions. Despite the similarities we should NOT be confused with the UNMANNED drones being flown over Pakistan by no less than 2 U.S. Agencies on your dime. At this time we cannot put a laser signature on you or your big head and call for an off shore Tomahawk Missile Strike to semi surgically blow you and anyone around you up. As robonarcs we are programmed to see through the eyes of our 360 camera, receive/send data via sat comm, audibly communicate with either a man or woman's voice, smell, touch and taste. Got ya, we do not yet have the sensory capacity to touch or taste but we are programmed to be able to smell and you need a shower. "SIR, FOR GOD SAKE PLEASE TUCK IN YOUR SHIRT and COMB YOUR HAIR!" Listen citizens, you may as well just stay home and stop coming out in the public arena for when you see us in actual operation you may lose all sense of what you thought was really happening around you. DO NOT BE ALARMED WE ARE HERE TO PROTECT AND SERVE."

Post Addendum: My friend Tab sent this very important link called Stimulus Watch. Residents of North Carolina should take the time and have a look inside the Change coming your way. 49 other States in this fine Nation perhaps have similar plans. Amazing. Thanks Tab.

ID Theft: NashBar Vanilla Dune 29'er

Yesterday morning I was handed a hard copy of the latest NashBar catalogue by an official from deep inside the industry. This Operate, that's right Operate(CIA spy lingo) from the East Coast Div pointed me to the page adverting the new NashBar Vanilla Dune 29'er. Apparently NashBar Spies have connected to my blog multiple times via the Hawley Blog(NashBar gets a kick out of that read) since at least December 3, 2008 which was just after they were tipped off about my emotional and intellectual property by the greatest bike blog in the history of the world. The full electro report is still being accumulated for the evidence boxes which are filling up by the minute for the upcoming civil case. At any rate it is completely obvious that my bicycle's identity has been ripped off in an effort to create Billism for the masses. This is an outrage. Shame on you NashBar, the least you could have done was sent me a note letting me know that you were about to recreate an imitation of my bike and sell it at a profit for the masses knowing that everyone wants a ride like mine. Just remember that no matter how much it sort of looks like my Mt. Zion Desert Storm your Vanilla Dune 29'er is simply an imitation trying. You will be hearing from my attorney who is me, so you will be hearing from me soon.

Any comments you my lovely audience would be willing to make will go in the evidence box and would be greatly appreciated.

NashBar's 09 Vanilla Dune


My 08 Mt. Zion DS

Raleigh NC-Slide Show

Capital Rotunda Building built in between 1833 and 1840 of Granite which is the State Rock. Solid. The Rotunda from inside on the 2nd floor looking up.

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On our visit to the Government Capital of the State we found the core meaning of political Red Tape. Back before anything electro the senators used to write their legislation, fold it neatly, wrap it in brown paper and then seal it with a red bow. Red Tape.

Bev Perdue during her last term as Lt. Gov sat in the chair under the seal and broke the tie in the senate vote which was 25 to 25 for the State's first ever education lottery. Way to go Bev!

The vote showed up here on this board live as it was happening so that the state senators could keep up with the tally. Unfortunately a few of them got confused and tried to super size their meal.

I found multiple cases of Waste in Government, here is one of them.

Thomas Day(1801ca-1861) loves Walz cycling caps and Walz loves him.

Not quite as big, almost as wide.

Ms. Arcen had no idea that Raleigh offered such a good view of the Mountains considering it is more or less on a coastal plain.

More Waste in Government!

This floor is almost 200 years old, pretty solid.

This sticky legged beetle attracted the attention of my kid.

This was the only evidence I saw for the entire day that bicycles were allowed in Raleigh. Not one other, only this one.

A shot glass(1785ca), literal sense. Way before it became a tool to pour down the fire water it was a place for politicians to put their feather pens so that the ink would not run on the desk top. Shot, get it?

Chuck our guide was describing what the curtain behind the original Lt. Gov's chair(not to be confused with the Lt. Gov's chair pictured above in the new(1961ca) legislative building) was for, any guesses?

This was the extent of the Capital Security that I saw. Apparently this new bumper sticker technology is working very well for our State's Capital is one of the safest places I have been to recently. America.

1st Non-Budgeted Expense

of the weekend happened while this image was being taken less than 5 miles from Dooleyville on the return drive(326th car driven mile of the day) from our State's Capiltoon Friday evening. Speaking of which tomorrow will be the field trip slide show and smart ass commentary, should be a good one I took pictures of where Bev Perdue applies her mascara and uses the bathroom. See the pretty swirling blue lights, I did shortly after I saw him tucked in on the right behind the city limits sign just as it went from 55 to 45. He was an electro cop, no emotion not that I deserved any but just an observation. Something I have never seen before was the radar gun that clocked me was attached to the lap top which was attached to the CIC which was attached to the on board dash camera which was attached to the printer that printed my ticket. Nothing manual, not even the smile. I am innocent until proven guilty even though I will be entering a guilty plea. That is all I should say about that right now because with my plea I will bring the truth to the courthouse. But sir, "I don't drive very much, I ride my bike way more."

Sunday Mountain Ride-Pisgah

(editorial note: Mike's Last name starts with an R not an S like I have went to print with. Even though I did not know that, for some reason I thought that I heard his nickname perhaps said starting with an S which is what I was thinking when I wrote it. Perhaps I am simply a moron. Either way I apologize for any confusion Mike.)

I am not sure how but asking Eric to take me on a 5- 7hr ride that ends with Turkey Pen Gap seemed like a great idea at the time earlier in the week. 7hrs, 11mins. Tons of time alone at both ends of the 3 of us which were Eric, Mike S. and I. Interesting side note: Mike S. whom I had never met before but recognized me(not from Dicky's blog this time) introduced himself as one of the 2 riders that me and Ms. Arcen passed while we were descending down from Cairns Trail last month. Hunh? How is that possible that someone I passed on the trail not too long ago shows up with Eric to go for a ride? While we were taking out on Mullinax I saw a paw print in the gray trail mud. It was deep and way bigger than my dog Max's. I pedalled away thinking to myself what kind of dog would leave a print bigger and deeper than Max's? When we regrouped on up the trail Mike brought up the fact that he thought he just recognized a bear print back a bit. That is exactly what that had to be, amazing the black bear does not hibernate here in NC. I regret not going back to take a snap but this thing was moving forward. A time warp transfer later I fell over on Avery I think it was, there was an unexpected wash out where the immediate left hand side of the trail just disappeared in a wash out dramatically cascading down the ravine. The trail was intact but my eyes and brain were very confused, the outcome was I stalled, clipped a pedal trying to regain momentum and fell over into a predicament that only Mike could save me from by literally pulling my bike off of me while I lay on my back head down the mountain caught up in the rough steep surface. I flogged my upper outside thigh muscle on a protrusion that caught my fall. The rest of the day was not quite the zippy fun that had a hold of me until that point. I had to concentrate to bring that thigh around on every stroke. Ouch. In the crash my pack light Gore jacket fell out of my jersey pocket and Mr. Aware was not aware until time space later. I felt bad about littering but even worse losing a piece of gear that I use regularly and have for about 4 years. If anyone finds my jacket(it is blue and says Nova on it) and returns it safely I have a reward. Unbelievably that was the 2nd out of budget expense I accrued over the weekend. Clear Skies, diamond dust snow flakes catching the rays of photon sun light energy transference into the mood of freedom not toon or jar. Free. Why do they have geared bikes? Owl scat out the other end in regurgitation which I have been officially trained to spot as of yesterday in the middle of the trail. A Huge Owl that must have been I thought to myself. Winds coming in above us. Forestation in the bright sun and at last the 6th and final mountain of Turkey Pen Gap. Great ride, thanks for concocting it Eric~


Eric and Mike S.
under the log bridge
This PMBAR intel report is for Dicky and Thad. Shhh, don't tell anyone but Eric let me know that one of your check points will be within 3.3miles of this spot. Study it hard this image will play a crucial role in your ride!

Document: Eric resupplying water using purification pump.

Vote Bastard!

Yes, I took this now very famous picture. This one too but not yet quite as famous.

That is right blog readers, Team Which Ever Way the Wind Blows in the Direction of Free Shit needs our vote. The Breckenridge Colorado Epic race is in July and according to the first word in the second sentence of the race overview, it is gonna be Extreme. Team Dicky is 1 of the 16 contestants listed here, once you scan down to the bottom you will see a little link to click and vote for your personal fav which would have to be the only representative from the great state of North Carolina. I heard him bitching just yesterday that he was leading the contest but was not at all comfortable with the gap. So with that said all of you my beautiful audience out there reading my psycho babble not necessarily in the bike loop please help him with a vote and once you see how easy it is please pass on to everyone you know in a communal effort to help send this man to his dream of a free ride at a very hard mountain bike event. If you have any votes left Tomi and Lynda would be well worth the clicks.

Speaking of clicks and my little buddy I started clicking over here (you can now find on my side bar as the Real Rich Dillen) the other day and found bewildered amusement and belly laughs. Scroll backward to the start of this new blog, the creator of this new funny is on to something. Put in a request, have a laugh in the name of good clean fun. Like the back and forth laughs Dicky and Jill have been having while the book sales rise without mention of the key ingredient to that spike in interest. I may not be able to reference a movie line but I did read Coelho's The Alchemist you know.

I'm on the road to the State Capital with Ms. Arcen tomorrow. After being in this fine State for a total of almost 19 years I figured it was about time. I truly hope I run into some politicians in the legislature and in the theatre of governance, I have some questions that I plan to get on film. So check in for I may even be able to do a mobile update if things work out. If not we will get caught up next week.

Giant Nude Woman Captured in The Jar

The other day I decided to take a peek inside the labyrinth of Charlotte's new Epicentre(fancy Euro spelling and all). At the end of the faux alley on the left where no one really was filling the wide fake cobbles anyway I heard the softly spoken words, "help....help, please help me." I looked up and saw this gigantic nude woman crouched down to save her dignity in a cell on the corner of the newly built 17th century shopping street uptown. That is her knee sort of like the Land-O-Lakes Lady. Her name is Stacy, Stacy the Giantess. Stacy was captured by the Charlotte Authorities in a raid against Giants last week. Stacy told me that since being placed in the cage only 35 people had walked by but I was the first to actually take notice. There was nothing I could do for her even though she tried she could not fit through the bars, her shoulders were like a foot too wide. I took her picture for prosperity and while I did we chatted. Stacy said that the thing she misses most about being locked up is not being able to read the Hawley Blog. Before we parted I let her know that I would pass the message.

Ghost Trails

photo: Ms. Arcen

Authentic. A few weeks ago while reading Steve Coll's Pulitzer Prize winning Ghost Wars(every American living the dream must read this book but that is a different post) I purchased through St. Lissa, Ghost Trails(Journeys through a lifetime) by Jill Homer whose blog 'Arctic Glass' I had been following periodically ever since around about the time Dicky started his. I cannot remember exactly how I wound up there but when I did I was inspired not immediately by the person but first by the experience portrayed in the landscape photos from Alaska and the Arctic Region. Not long after seeing through these amazing windows from Charlotte into the pastoral hinterland of the Northwest corner of this continent I began to get the idea that the person doing the miles was an extraordinary life force who was in a very physical relationship with her life.

Authenticity comes to mind as I try to describe her book to you. Anyone who has ever gone on a long ride and then done it again and again should go to her blog where you can purchase through an easy pay pal transfer a signed copy for a fair price mailed to you right away. Once you go inside Ghost Trails you will be able to hear the soft powerful voice of someone with an identity of confidence, strength and humble resolve to stay true to their endangered survival instincts not to quit and/or die. In all sense of the word, enduring at a winter Arctic 350 mile Mountain Bike Race where she can even see through to the quanta of what race really is and means to her. Her story and participation in the 2008 Alaska Ultra Sport 350mile Bike Race in February connects the physical with the emotion to form an entire document that will inspire you all. I cried once, almost twice. I cannot say exactly what made me cry other than the immediate emotional transfer and parallel experience that I felt when she was handed the incoming phone call shortly after finding bloody shelter in Farewell Burn not quite at the end of her amazingly literal cold ass 350mile ride. Jill is riding the race all over again in a few short weeks, be sure to send all positive thoughts her way and the way of her man Geoff who is running, that's right running the event this year after completing the first 135 miles of last year's race on foot and becoming injured. Peace to you both, good luck and stay super tuned into the sensory, no matter what something cosmic along your push is going to happen!

Valentoon's Day Classic Mountain Ride

and tons of inner body transfers to boot! Transfer you say, Billy what are you talking about transfer? Listen, it is something that I cannot quite define or wrap up in a package neatly with a bow and put on the shelf for you to see but transfer is real. A new age Social Engineering Term. There would be no way I could explain something that I cannot quite define unless you are like the one out of every ten that are consciously aware of this ubiquitous transfer process and have them regularly. Ask around, you are bound to talk with someone who is on transfer right now unless by some chance of synchro indeed you are and/or may be. Enough of the transfer side track, lets get back to Saturday's ride with Shannon of Rochester. We were riding upwards from the moss covered bridge at the bottom of the fire road below the dirt mounds on 181 by 0930hrs for Ginger Cake Acres and onto Raspberry Ridge. On the way up the first of many transfers came when along 181 in a curve I read the death marker of a youngster who missed the turn on his championship level motor cycle. His picture was attached to a cross with a note almost describing the soul who perished right there not too long ago. Onwards and up being pulled by the power of the mountain. Morale was great for this the first of 3 climbs as we turned onto Ginger Cake Acres for the traverse to Raspberry. Not far along we were passed by a 2 vehicle shuttle loaded with 10 big bikes and presumably 10 riders. By the time we got to the trail head they were geared up and ready to roll so we followed as the 11th and 12th after being asked if we were going on a big ride. About half way down just before the hard left we rolled up on 2 of the 10 working on a flat. Then around the corner the other 8 waiting patiently for their amigos. We rolled through and off Raspberry which was in fine condition. The sky was mainly blue by the time we reached Greentown Plunge. Down and out over to Raiders. At the bottom of Raiders the water seemed higher than the crossing at Greentown. I heard her say, "Are we crossing that?" Yes, of course. I could hear the big bikes coming and persuaded her to hurry. That was the last time we saw them. Down off Raiders and a quick'ish stop at the natural spring and then on to the final climb up to Sink Hole Saddle. It was 1520hrs when we reached that point and the morale of my coed duo partner was waning so we opted to skip Sink Hole and descend the fire road back to the Montero. On the descent transfer my vision became crystal clear. It was like I can see just fine normally, 20/20 or so but on that fast downhill at a certain point something happened with both me eyes and brain that turned up the clarity. Light was streaming through the trees casting a glow in the downward sloping forest. The tan color of the fire road seemed almost electric as it wove it's way down around the toes of the ridge we were descending. The stream on the left was clearly green, almost an emerald filter casting light to the rocks at the bottom of the slowly moving water. No sound just clear vision transfer. Back to the Moss covered bridge in around 5hrs(correction: 6hrs), I took a quick swim transfer in the cold water before the uneventful drive back to the Jar.
Table Rock NC from 181 and the start of the road climb. The top of 181 about to turn of onto Ginger Cake Acres

The view from a spot on Ginger Cake

Fallen tree turned stunt on Greentown, I immediately thought that the Hucklebees were responsible. I tried to ride it once. Made it onto the log but my pedal clipped the right hand nodule and scared me so I bailed. It is a rather high log ride at the beginning but an easy one I know as well.

climbing out of Greentown in a cut

The caped Lechner descending a sweat(SWEET-yet another correction, I really have to start reading this stuff) line on lower Raiders.

The top of Sink Hole Saddle waiting and thinking.

Just before we took off straight ahead and down for the final transfers of the ride.

Header Image

pulled down today is 3 of the 6 Choppers I saw flying from the eastern sky towards the Jar on the afternoon of Friday January 30, 2009. Sorry to disrupt your curiosity for simply nothing more than a header image document. Once one comes down it will be forgotten for ever unless I mention it here.

"Smell My Shoes"

photo:me she says in a soft raspy demure female tone to the very cool and euro fine Carsten Bresser before the stage start out of Oberhof. Bresser the Compressor willingly leans forward out of his chair and takes a deep inhale of Becky's still wet from the day before shoes. He sits back into his chair coffee in hand with a smile of pleased satisfaction and comments, "I do love die schmell of crazy lady feet in die morning." The Compressor tries to savor the aroma in his mind for the stage that is about to start which he and Sydor will undoubtedly win as well as the race but Sydor never lets him smell her shoes. Hours later on course way up on an exposed mountain ridge and off the front together Bresser looks at Sydor and says, "Ali, vie do you never let me schmell your shoes?" Sydor slightly confused and testy at the same time replies, "What, that Single Speed hussy with the ripped arms and sexy voice let you smell hers?" The Compressor blushes as he wonders if he has pushed it too far with his partner but she gives in almost shouting over the wind on the high German mountain, "Okay fine Carsten, you can smell my shoes after this stage but you cannot tell anyone or they will rip us apart!" Victory for Bresser die Compressor.

Smacked Down

I was taught a while ago, more than a decade that every single physical pain is directly related to an emotional imbalance. If that sounds like energy talk or even perhaps a touch of shamanism it is not meant to, it is just a philosophy that I have been able to see the truth in. I have made the connection that when one's own emotional self is not completely whole which can happen from time to time on this ever spinning earth, in this continually expanding cosmos pain does set in. Sometimes it manifests internally and others it can come in a quick smack down to the ground.

For example yesterday. I had just picked up my 1015hrs & 1030hrs circuit of court work and was descending 3rd St when I had a thought about how much longer would this bike livity life continue in an age of change not change. In my mind I realized that change for me will only happen when I take the actions that do such. Up onto the curb at the Government Center block doing what I do every single morning which may have been the catalyst for thoughts of the continual actions that brought me to that now. Just where I usually make a hard left to go under the sky walk of the old courthouse to the new were 2 female motionless pedestrians smoking grits. The one with her back to me was going to step backwards, I felt it as I approached and on instinct only I turned left 3 meters or so before I normally do to avoid her move before she even realized she was about to. My front wheel unexpectedly sunk into the fresh edging where the grass meets the curb. I launched from the cockpit forward to the left and downward towards the center of the earth. Just before I made contact my 4.7lb lock shot out of my chest strap, slammed into the ground and ricocheted up into my forward falling eye socket after being deflected by my sun glasses. Then I hit and a bike part, I am not sure if it was a pedal or the end of the bars smashed the top of my right hand on impact.

I heard the pedestrian lady say something over an immediate feeling of cloudy nausea and stinging pain in the center of my hand. I knew my eye was cut open but everything that I was aware of at that second radiated outward from the burn in my 2nd & 3rd metacarpals. Yes lady I know I am bleeding. I pulled my gloves out to put pressure on my eye refusing the paper napkin entropy that she offered. In the darkness through the squint I could not see but I heard the voice of none other than the Single Speed 24Hour Solo World Champion from a few years back. Team Dicky? Had I died and heaven is Singley too? No. Of course the only crash I have had at work in just over 3 years would have been witnessed from behind by my little buddy. He had no official comment on the incident for fjear of ruining his deal with Moots. Off the record he did say that what he saw was reminiscent of riding with me on the trail, oh Billy is crashing into the ground. I wanted to laugh when I realized he was holding the throw away napkins which as useless as they were wound up in his bag. Then every one went away and I continued to the Courthouse not able to get my tool kit out of the bag. The next few hours were painful and confusing because of how the pain in my hand went towards my elbow. I felt like vomiting pretty much all day until I found myself at an Urgent Care facility out in Mint Hill. I rode to the first UC on my Stay Alive which was closed directing me to the one 5 miles past my house where I went to get the Montero. The digital X-rays of my hand showed that there was no bone brake but could not show what the Doctor identified as the source of the pain which is something called traumatic Neuropraxia where the hematoma(smashed blood cells) is so severe in a tight little area that the nerves in my hand are being squished. The pain should be 50% less in 7-10 days, I am glad it was not broken. They washed out my eye and offered 3 sutures which seemed rather like a bunch of effort for something so cosmetic. My indifference caused them to offer glue over the stitches. Glue? Are you kidding? No, it sets up in seconds over the laceration to keep it protected and clean for 5 days. I took the glue. The folks working in this little medical out post were really nice. Seems as if they all came in at various points to ask me about being a bike messenger. I may have been the first in messenger in their facility, a sort of anomaly but like I told them there are only 8 of us or so. Not very good odds to meet a real one or one who thinks he is real anyway.

American Values

Great speech and press conference last night eh? Feel goods all over, especially if you live in Iran which is right next door to Iraq and Afghanistan, at least the RV manufacturers of northern Indiana will be taken care of. Wow, the joke on top of the joke is real folks and we all should be looking west and getting ready for the change because it is coming whether we are ready or not. How many of you know that Iran has submarines? WTF? another trillion dollars no problem because we have become so assimilated to the philosophy that life is good that we will completely sit back while the Palestinian innocent are slaughtered with WMD that were made here at the same time that level of complacency is carried over to the government for the people by the people. It is all going to be completely fine just make absolutely certain you are ready for the digital conversion. What difference could all that money make to a nation that sees theirs as the only minute in the now that matters?

In the mean time and as a distraction check out the above video I shot this past April but did not put together until this weekend. That's right another film post of which I think that there will be more of soon because I have been working on a public awareness quiz for the patrons of Dale Junior's Whiskey River, its gonna be good. Swazey had just finished telling Brent and Jordy, two very creative multi level artists that drums and banjo just do not go combine for any semblance of sound harmony. "Bah Swazey", I say these musicians in full impromptu style have just made a symphony of the drums and banjo, the 4 parts being the 2 instruments and their 2 highly motivated souls.

Apocolypse Later

Yup, that's all I have today, nothing but a silly little video that I shot and edited over the weekend. I know it has been happening many miles from the ocean as long as strip malls have been around but I cannot seem to swallow the rationalization that the balance is well. What attracted me to these sea gulls is that they had started to follow me along the Albermarlean Traverse a few weeks ago on my morning stay alive. The other day on the way home I saw about 7 of them fighting over the frozen slushy contents of a super size drink cup from the King of Burger that was smashed on the side of a Bus Stop shelter. They were in all literal sense actively trying to stay alive by taking in the brown high fructose corn syrup. They need protein and to be back along the coast some 200miles away to the east.

Saturday Post Puts

'Me back to the front, you will do what I say when I say it, back to the front...'-in a growl. Header Image Document pulled down in place of Choppers in the sky is self on top of fire road climb towards Farlow in December.

January Horse of the Month

What you say, horse of the month? I thought this was a bicycle orientated blog, well lets just say horses are sort of like bikes on a few levels so we are going to just go with it. Plus I was not able to pull my camera out fast enough yesterday to get the picture of the huge cigarette that was cruising Tryon St strapped to the back and roof of a Ford pick up truck adverting the latest grit. Can't you feel the change? As sort of a fun little side project I have ubiquitously decided to give an award to one of the friendliest horses in the County, 10 year old Choco(like short for chocolate). Choco is a guy horse who lives not far here on Frank Hodges' Farm. This rather large creature is kind and likes to greet humans that stroll out onto his pasture. Choco is velvet brown skinned with a distinguished blond fore lock that blows in the wind in full hippie style to reveal a white blaze in the center of his head. Check him out.

Ms. Arcen saying hello to him in the pasture.

A recognition of sorts.

Eyes wide shut seeing everything that is going on.

Choco

Once again eyes shut with huge animated mouth lips sending a non verbal message.

Just as we went to leave Choco came to say good bye.